A Bird in the Hand
by Ms Orton
Summary: Gene and Alex head to Leeds for a conference, but after the alcohol flows the tension finally breaks, only to be re-ignited again almost instantly forcing DCI Hunt to take matters into his own hands. Totally AU. PWP.
1. Chapter 1

**For the Smutresses- you know who you are!**

**I do not own Ashes or Gene and Alex. Mattley , Kudos, Monastic and Auntie Beeb do. **

**Reviews would be lovely. Thanks!**

**A Bird in the Hand**

'I wouldn't shag _you_ if _you_ were the last man on Earth, Hunt!'

As DI Drake spat the words out she punctuated the pronouns with insistent jabs against her superior officer's chest, unconsciously edging closer to him. An electric silence coursed between them as their eyes glared into the others', all the time searching for a weakness and trying to ignore the fact that their lips were literally millimetres away from each other. After several moments Gene finally dropped his eyes to the floor and took a step back, kicking his heel on the pavement outside the station in the process, like a naughty schoolboy.

'Even if it was a choice between me 'n' Bernard Manning, Bolls?'

He'd raised his head and cocked it to the side slightly, a cheeky grin lighting its way across his face.

_Bastard, _Alex thought to herself. _Why does he have to be so damn sexy AND funny_?

She was sure he existed purely to make her life a misery and yet it was often such sweet torture. Jamming her hands into her jeans pockets and taking a step back herself, she sighed partially to let off steam, partially to prevent herself from giggling like a teenager. If she succumbed to that then he'd won that particular battle, and she wouldn't hear the end of it for hours, perhaps days. It was bad enough he was constantly niggling at her for 'forcing' him to go to the 'Human Rights of the Prisoner' conference they were rapidly becoming late for.

'Gene its 8 am. We've got precisely 4 hours to get to Leeds for this sodding conference. Even with your break-neck driving skills we're going to be spectacularly late, so I suggest we get a move on instead of pissing around at the side of the road...'

To Hunt the thought of spending that long in an enclosed space with Drake was unbearable, especially as he was 99.9% certain that she had 'the decorator's in', and yet...

'Gene' she growled, 'you're not even bloody listening to me, are you?'

'I'm all ears Bolly-Keks...'

'Do you want me to drive? Is that it?' Alex knew what his answer would be before he gave it, but she still went through the motions of holding her hand out, gesturing for the keys. It had the desired effect and spurred him on to take the few steps to the red sports car.

'Nobody drives the Quattro but me Drake!'

'You're the boss!' Alex offered as she ducked into the passenger seat.

'Yes I bloody am Fussy Knickers, and don't you soddin' forget it'

There was a brief silence as Gene put his key in the ignition, and turned thoughtfully to Alex, sniffing the way he always did when he was about to say something either profound or downright outrageous. As he smiled she knew it was going to be the latter and started to roll her eyes even before the words left his lips.

'Besides Bolls... Me gearstick hasn't gotten over last time you man'andled it...'

The moment the words had tripped from his lips he lunged forwards, causing his DI to take a sharp intake of breath as he opened the compartment in front of her and searched for his gloves amongst the numerous hip flasks, maps and empty cigarette packets, all the while 'accidently' brushing his elbow against her ample chest. Alex opened her mouth to speak but thought against it. They'd only just had a row and she didn't want another one to worsen what was already going to be an awkward journey. That aside, if she was completely honest with herself Alex would have admitted that she was enjoying the physical contact a little more than she should be. The closest she'd come to intimacy for months now was having a tussle with troublesome suspects before she could cuff them, and that wasn't exactly her idea of a good time.

'Gotcha!' Gene commented out of the blue causing his DI to jump noticeably and flush lightly as she was torn away from her musings unexpectedly. Had she been caught out? _No he's found his gloves for God's sake!_ _Get a grip woman! _

Grabbing a bag of barley sugar twists from the dashboard Gene quickly opened the wrapper of one and unceremoniously shoved it in his mouth and turned to offer one to his second-in-command.

'Somethin' to suck on for the journey Drake?'

At that precise moment Alex wished the Earth would swallow her whole. She could feel the blood rising steadily and rapidly from her chest to her cheeks. Her mouth opened, but no words came out. Gene knew he'd bested her and chalked another mental mark on his side of the board marked Hunt versus Bollinger Knickers.

'Here' he dropped the bag on her lap, 'We haven't got all flippin' day while you decide whether my confectionary is up t' your hoighty-flaming-toighty standards!'

As the car engine roared to life and the wheels began to run along the tarmac, both of them came to the conclusion that it would be an interesting twenty-four hours.

* * *

Alex sat at the hotel dressing table, pulling one of her stockings up her foot and slowly along her legs, careful not to make the ladder at the ankle any worse than it already was. She knew full well he was laid there reviewing the sight before him from the vantage point of the bed. Looking into the mirror the DI could see him, the man she'd fantasised about for so long, arms folded behind his head and propped up against a pillow looking thoroughly pleased with himself as he tracked her movement with those steely blue eyes and licked his lips unconsciously. A few stray strands of dirty blonde hair had fallen onto his forehead, making him look utterly relaxed and utterly gorgeous.

A moment of doubt flashed through her mind, '_Could this really have happened?_' The dull ache between her legs certainly seemed to verify it, as did the slight pain in her hips where he'd hung onto her for grim death at the 'crucial moment', whilst she'd sat astride him and found her own ecstasy almost simultaneously. This really could make things a lot more complicated. All those months, years even, of sniping, of longing, of skirting round each other and finally they'd given in, and boy had they given in... Alex suppressed the urge to grin like the cat that had got the cream when hazel finally met blue in the mirror.

'See something you like Mr Hunt?' She allowed a wry smile to creep to the edges of her mouth.

'I preferred it when I was taking them off ya, Bolls.'

And there it was, the Manc Lion's pout: his trademark. Alex had lost count of the number of times she'd focused on it when he'd pissed her off during a case and then totally lost the thread of her conversation, imagining whether the kiss would be gentle or fierce. Now she knew he was capable of both. Gene Hunt: the epitome of a living, walking, breathing contradiction. She yawned deeply as she went to pick something up off the floor.

'What's up Drakey? Are you all shagged out? Thought Lady Bolls would 'ave a bit more stamina than that...', he asked with a self-satisfied look creeping across his still flushed face. To his surprise she wasn't amused and appeared to be holding up a black scrap of material.

'Look what you've done to my knickers! How the hell am I supposed to walk half way round the hotel back to my room when you've shredded half my bloody clothes?'

Gene rolled his eyes. Why did he expect her to be any different after they'd had sex? Nag, nag, flaming nag. There was a definite anger in her eyes, and if he was honest it was more than a bit of a turn-on. Shit! The lion cub was stirring again.

'Do you have any idea how much these things cost?'

'Quite frankly _love,_ I couldn't give a flying donkey's arse how much they cost? Knowing the price of silly knickers isn't exactly one of my priorities!'

He'd adjusted himself and was now sat bolt upright in bed. If she wanted an argument he was ready for it. If she was just gearing up for something else not-so-little Genie was ready for that too.

'I wouldn't expect _you_ to appreciate this sort of thing', Alex spat out much more venomously than she had originally intended. Now she'd gone too far and the knives were well and truly about to be drawn.

'Oh so that's what this all is about eh?... You're ashamed that you've shagged someone who isn't up to your sodding standard limp-pricked lawyers and now you're giving me the brush-off eh?'

This was rapidly getting out of hand. _Just calm the situation down Alex_

'Gene I didn't mean...'

'You weren't exactly telling me to remove them gently an hour ago were you, sweetheart?' He breathed out an incredulous laugh and began to mimic her, 'Oh Gene I need you!... Oh God I need you now...'

She could tell he was pissed off and maybe rightly so, they were after all arguing over an article of underwear, but now he was mocking her and it hurt much more than it usually did. They'd just been closer than they'd ever been before, not just in terms of proximity, but emotionally too and now they were already falling back into their usual pattern.

'You complete _bastard_!... Why the hell did I think you'd be any different?'

She quickly began to pull her skirt over her hips, her hands fumbling with a mixture of anger and humiliation. He'd opened his stupid Manc trap and upset her now. _Well done Gene! There goes your one and only chance to have something meaningful with the woman you've been fantasising about for God knows how long.' _Did he want something meaningful? Yes. That was the problem.

'Look Alex...'

'I think it's better if we go back to having a purely professional relationship Ge... DCI Hunt... We drank more than we should and let's just put this down to both of us being pissed and get back to normal, shall we?...'

As he looked at her he saw the professional facade returning across her face. Her jaw was set and her eyes were once again staring back at him with the cold stare that had slowly evaporated over the months and years they'd been working together.

'So what you're basically saying is what happens in Leeds, stays in Leeds?'

Alex quickly had to gulp back a giggle. This arsehole was consistently capable of making her hate him vehemently one minute, and then causing her to convulse with laughter so hard it was all she could do not to wet herself the next. An awkward silence engulfed the hotel room as she shakily put her arm in one sleeve of her blouse and then the other, slowly turning away from him to hide her uncertainty and the sudden self-consciousness she felt at her state of undress. Alex leaned on the dressing table to take a deep breath as she closed her eyes and tried to compose herself. This wasn't how she'd planned to end the evening. None of it was. So much for a date with her book and bed...

'If you like. I'm sure you could put it like that', she breathed out exasperated.

'I just did DI Drake.'

Was it just her imagination or did he sound a lot closer than he was before? Suddenly she could feel his breath on her neck, and on opening her eyes she could see her boss was stood right behind her, stark bollock naked, his eyes meeting hers in the reflection. She was meant to be angry, instead she was gazing at what she could see of his broad shoulders, and the arms that were rapidly becoming entwined around her waist.

'Thing is Bolls...'

He stopped momentarily to nuzzle on her neck and make his way up to the back of her ear with his tongue. Her resolve was weakening, as was her ability to stand on her own two feet, a feeling that was greatly added to by the knowledge that something long, hard and warm was digging into her backside through her skirt as this maddeningly sexy man pushed against her during his ministrations. He started again, this time his voice a touch more gravelly,

'Thing is Bolls... I don't want things to go back to normal...' The DI's skirt was being unzipped and nudged back down over her hips, before landing back on the floor for the second time that evening, '...And I'm pretty damn sure you don't either, Little Miss Posh Knickers'.

Her breath catching in the back of her throat, she slowly turned her head and caught his lips in a brief, but fiery embrace, her tongue rolling across his mouth and tasting what was perhaps a mixture of whiskey, cigarettes and maybe even herself. Alex could feel her cheeks growing crimson with the thought of it, and the all too familiar sensation between her thighs, which she had long come to associate with this man, was becoming more insistent. A matter of months ago she'd considered him to be a figment of her imagination. A rather unpleasant one at that. Now with his chest pressing into the back of her and the pulse of his heightened heart rate resounding into her shoulder, she rebuked herself for ever doubting that he was anything but real.

'In case you haven't noticed _smart arse_ I'm not wearing any knickers...'

At that moment Gene had wanted to scream from the rooftops, '_Praise the fucking Lord_!', but no, now was the time for playing the game that his minx of a DI was coyly laying down the rules of. His hands snaked downwards over her stomach and yet further down as his thigh abruptly nudged her legs apart. Alex gasped in expectation as she watched his fingers slowly edging southwards, along her hip and then much lower to the inside of her thigh.

_Jesus Christ, he's good at this_: if he was trying to seduce her it was seriously working.

An audible moan escaped from her mouth as he finally found his target and caressed her soft curls.

'You're right. It would appear Lady Bollinger is knickerless... Well ain't that turn up for the books eh?'

A finger gently parted her folds and achingly slowly examined the evidence of her arousal, causing Alex to throw her head back and rest against Gene's chest.

'It would also appear that the floodgates have opened. What do you have to say to that your ladyship?'

Despite herself she'd begun to grind against his solitary digit.

'Gene please!' In response he lightly tugged the blouse that was still hanging round her from one shoulder and planted a flurry of tantalisingly gentle kisses, from the top of her newly exposed arm to the apex between her neck and shoulder, sending sparks all the way down her body. She shuddered involuntarily.

'Gettin' a little tetchy are we Bolls?'

And still, despite their present situation, he was trying to piss her off.

'This isn't one... one of your sodding interrogations!'

He noticed the desperation in her cut-glass voice and chuckled throatily. He'd often imagined having his DI in palm of his hand, and now she was. Literally. The irony certainly wasn't lost on him.

'Somethin' tells me you wouldn't object to a exhaustive strip search...' Gene finished his sentence and immediately dropped his head back down to her neck, this time kissing her more fiercely, tasting the sweet-saltiness of her skin and inhaling her intoxicating scent, finally finishing his assault with what he thought was a gentle nip. Alex's eyes flung open.

'Gene!' _Shit!_ He hadn't thought he'd bitten down that hard, and yet there was the evidence. Even in the dim light of the hotel room he could see definite teeth marks surrounded by a redness that would almost certainly develop into a bruise by the morning. It'd been years, perhaps decades even, since Gene Hunt had been the perpetrator of such a beauty and he wasn't sure whether to be thoroughly ashamed, or even a little bit pleased with himself. He hadn't intended to mark her, or had he? He'd long since given up trying to fathom his physical reactions towards his undeniably sexy, but eternally annoying DI.

'I thought I was supposed to be DCI Hunt again?'

Her superior officer really did know how to push her buttons in more ways than one, and now her patience was being tested to the limit. She was after all a modern girl and coming when she wanted to was par for the course.

'Besides you've always appreciated how thorough I am with my investigations, 'aven't ya DI Drake?'

Another finger slipped in between her wet folds and gently but firmly caressed her core, forcing her eyebrows skywards and her mouth to part in an 'O' of surprise. Looking down on her face Gene couldn't remember seeing anything so simultaneously erotic and beautiful in his entire life. The thing was Gene Hunt didn't do foreplay. Usually it was a quick snog, knickers down and 'wham, bam thank you Ma'am'. Yet here he was coaxing Alex Drake, the bane of his life, to elicit some of the facial expressions he'd only seen on the likes of Linda Lovelace, and not for the first time that evening either. _What was wrong with him?_ Something told the DCI that her parted lips and the glimpse of her tongue darting over them would be etched on the inside of his lids every time he closed his eyes for weeks and maybe months to come. In fact if it was the last image he saw as he drew his final breath, he suspected he'd be going to his grave with a smile on his face.

A look of concentration found its way across her forehead. She was about to speak and it was obviously taking a great deal of effort to get the words out.

'I've always been a fan of a frig...a _rigourous' _A deep breath and a furrowing of her brow. '...Investigation Mr Hunt...' Her breathing hitched up a notch as he gradually upped the pace of his ministrations.

'Just as long... as long...'

'Well spit it out Bolls. We haven't got all night,' he lied. They did and he intended to use every precious minute of it. Alex gulped and tried to focus.

'Just as long as... as the officer in charge... is attentive to the n-n-n-needs...'

'N-n-nneeds? Suddenly developed a tick have we Drake?'

Despite her eyes being pursed shut she knew he had a smug smile across his face: it was the tone of his voice. Yet again he was mocking her, the pompous bastard, but she was determined she'd get her words out even if it killed her. Right now, with those impossibly long fingers working between her thighs, that was a distinct possibility.

'...To the needs of the individual under interrogation...'

There she'd said it! _Feminism 1. Misogyny 0! Hah..! Oh God football metaphors_' He'd rubbed off on her more than she'd care to admit.

'And am I being attentive to your needs Bolls?', he asked seductively as his other 'free' hand began to fondle one of her still encased breasts through the black lacy material, causing the nipple to peak in his fingertips.

'I'd give you a 7 out of 10...' she replied breathlessly.

'Just a 7 eh?...' Gene slipped yet another finger in between her wet folds and began to use his thumb to rub against her clit.

'How about now?' The effect was instantaneous as he felt her whole body stiffen against him. The anti had been well and truly upped.

'Jesus!'

'I'll answer to almost anything, but Gene'll do...'

'Please Gene... I need to... to...' She was practically begging him now for her release.

Appraising her in the mirror once more he could see her forehead creased in concentration, and watched in awe as a bead of perspiration ran down from her neck to the gap between her two full breasts almost as if in slow motion. To him she was beautiful, perfection even, and right now he had the overriding urge to make her see that as plainly he did.

'Open your eyes Alex, love'

'What?' She wasn't sure she'd heard him properly.

'Look in the mirror...'

Alex wasn't at all sure, but seen as he was rapidly propelling her to yet another of the best orgasms she'd had in her life, she felt she owed him the benefit of the doubt. It took a great deal of effort to lift her head from Gene's shoulder and open her heavy eyelids enough to take in the image before her, but once she did she didn't regret it. Her focus was drawn instantly to the reflection of the man who was holding her and wheedling these indescribable sensations from her through his actions. It was his face that betrayed him. Those steely-blue eyes displayed a whole gamut of emotions from lust to vulnerability, even adoration and perhaps still more than that. It was then that she realised how natural it all felt; they looked like they belonged together. Being in his arms felt like being home, something that reassured and frightened her in equal measure.

'You're so fuckin' beautiful Alex...' She could detect the tension in his voice as he whispered it into her ear, and that coupled with his continued attentions became all too much for her. Instinctively she threw her head back against him and uttered numerous expletives that surprised even the wordly copper who had been subjected to the colourful language of Manchester's finest housewives in his time. Alex could most certainly give them a run for their money right now. Her body went limp and spasmed as eventually she fell over the precipice, her wet, hot core pulsing around his digits.

The trouble was it wasn't doing much for Gene's self-control as she bucked against him. He'd managed to focus entirely on her needs but now his body was demanding it's own release. He was determined he wasn't going spill his seed into the base back of her like some randy 15 year old. Alex deserved better than that and come to think of it so did he for having, what he thought was, the patience of a saint as he'd managed reduce his painfully attractive DI from a mass of anger and resentment to a potty-mouthed, jelly-legged wreck in the space of 10 minutes.

Gene waited as long as he could physically manage and then slowly lowered her onto the floor as she came down from the disorientating high, walking away from her and turning his back so he could regain his composure. Absent-mindedly she put her hand up to her neck and rubbed the sore area, instantly feeling the indentations of the teeth marks and wincing slightly at the delicacy of the whole area. Gradually Alex came back to her senses, her breathing returning to a more regular pattern, soon realising that she was sat in a heap on the hotel room floor and feeling instantly bereft of the closeness they'd just had.

'Gene?'

As she turned her body round to locate him she spotted him in the corner of the room, his broad shoulders facing her as they moved up and down with agitated breaths. One hand was against the wall and his head was slung low. Beads of sweat ran down his back.

'You 'eard that saying Bolls... A bird in the 'and is worth two in th' bush?' Finally as he turned she saw the source of his frustration. Alex had half-considered it earlier on when she'd first removed his boxers, but now it was plain to see: _Gene Hunt really was bigger in every department_.

'Yes', she answered uncertainly, desperately trying to draw her attention away from a certain part of his anatomy. Evan had always taught her it was rude to stare, but still... _Christ!_

'Well, Bolly No-Knickers,' he grunted impatiently, 'it's a load of bollocks... Now get that bony arse of yours off the floor and onto the bed!'

Alex couldn't help but smile. It would appear it was going to be a long night.


	2. Chapter 2

**I'd just like to say a big thank you to everybody who's read, reviewed and added this story to their favourites. I didn't intend this to be anything more than a one-shot initially, but you've spurred me on. Once again reviews would be lovely! **

**Another massive bucket of thanks to the Smutresses for the vat of 'inspiration' they supply me with. You are all amazing!**

**I still don't own Ashes, Gene or Alex and perhaps it's a good thing too... **

A Bird in the Hand

Chapter 2

Alex eventually managed to get to her feet, nearly falling forwards at least once as her brain still refused to communicate efficiently with her legs. _What the hell has he done to me? _For a split second it occurred to Alex that she might have had some sort of stroke or aneurism. She'd certainly read at least one paper in a medical journal where a woman had had such a violent orgasm she'd passed out and woken up paralysed from the waist down. A hazy image of Gene stood in front of the Super, playing with his tie, and being asked to give an account of himself flashed through her mind.

'The thing is Sir, I was practicing a new interrogation technique on DI Drake, her brain exploded and she wouldn't bloody get up. This is why we shouldn't have birds in the Police force Sir. They just aren't bloody cut out for it!'

_Get a grip Alex, _she told herself, Y_ou've got a dead leg and his ego's big enough as it is! _A nervous giggle crept out as it occurred to her it didn't always pay to have long legs, causing Gene's brow to furrow in confusion. It had to be said it wasn't the most graceful of movements, but the DI concluded little had been graceful about the evening's events. Dotted all around the hotel room floor were articles of both hers and Gene's clothing. Out of the corner of her eye she spotted her boss' black cotton boxer shorts hanging precariously on the door handle. _How did they get there? _Alex honestly couldn't say, but quickly reasoned that she could remember very little about their antics as they'd entered the room. The copious amounts of alcohol were partially to blame, but so was the desperation of the situation. Hazy images of bruising kisses and entwined limbs flashed through her mind, as they'd hurriedly tried to divest each other of their clothes. When it had come down to them 'doing the deed' for the first time it had surprised her that he'd allowed her to take the lead, and yet now it made perfect sense. Underneath all the blustering bullshit Gene Hunt was flesh and blood like everybody else, with all their insecurities. He had to know that she wanted him as much as he wanted her and that this wasn't another game. Now though the tables had turned.

A forced cough interrupted Alex's train of thought.

'Bolls if you don't hurry up I don't think I'll be responsible for my actions...' It was said jovially enough, but there was a clipped note to his sentence. Part of him meant it. Which _part_ was blatently obvious.

'Sorry... I'll just...' Alex gestured to the clothes that she'd managed to keep on and quickly began to remove them, dropping her blouse off her shoulders, unhooking her bra and sliding each of her unhooked stockings down her legs and onto the floor with everything else. Gene looked on as she finally slipped her suspender belt over her hips achingly slowly. Pulling herself back up to her full height she realised Gene was raking his gaze lustily up and down the length of her now fully exposed body. Following his glare she looked down at herself. Sure her boobs weren't quite as pert as the used to be, but she didn't look too bad for a thirty-something mother of one, who frequently drank too much and spent nearly every waking hour pouring over photos of dead bodies and witness statements.

Both of their heads lifted at the same time and their eyes met.

'How do you want me, Guv?' She smiled daringly as she spoke the last word, leaving it to hang in the air as she observed his eyes widen fleetingly in surprise.

Gene resisted the urge to blurt the first thing that came into his mind, but instead held her gaze. _How did he want her?_ _Jesus!_ _Thrice daily. From behind. From the side. On top. Swinging from the light fitting._ He really didn't care, he just wanted her. He hadn't stopped wanting her from the moment he'd clapped eyes in the fur coat, high heels and the red prossie dress that was so short he could have probably seen what she'd had for breakfast had she bent over the right way. Back then he'd wanted her physically and that had in no way changed, but now it was accompanied by an incessant need to attempt 'mission impossible' and figure out what was going on in that fruitcake mind of hers. If he was honest this scared the shit out of him: Gene Hunt was frightened of a woman and there was only one thing to do about. He had to lay down the law. Since what had happened a few minutes ago the dynamic had changed and he wanted to take full advantage of it. He needed to know how far he could go before getting a slap on the chops and a kick in the knackers. Boundaries and rules made him feel safe, and the parameters of their 'relationship' needed thrashing out.

A pregnant pause stretched out between them, so intense if it had lasted much longer it could have shattered glass. Finally he huskily replied to her question.

'On your back... Open your legs'

For the second time that evening Alex's legs nearly went from under her.

* * *

As Alex looked around the ornate, Victorian conference room the same personalities she knew from her experience on the conference circuit back in 2008 were still very much present back in 1982. The vain, cocky and bearded Professor in one corner of the room, with a flock of naive female research students crowded round him, impressed by tales of his misspent youth and trips to America. She cringed inwardly at having fallen for that herself during her Oxbridge days and blinked away a stray memory of her pasty, weedy lecturer crying out the name of his last conquest as he spilled into her. _Sometimes you have to learn the hard way Alex._ In the opposite corner stood a thin and drawn looking, middle-aged woman, nervously hanging onto her cup of tea and avoiding eye contact with the other delegates at all costs as she went over the minutiae of her paper in her mind, her lips moving as she stared at the fleur-de-lys pattern on the carpet and appeared to be talking to herself. She was the epitome of the life-long academic: too used to the rarefied air of the Ivory Tower to cope well with the stresses and strains of real life. Dotted around elsewhere were groups of lawyers making small talk and intermittently looking over their shoulders at the sets police officers around the room, muttering something under their breath or looking them up and down in disgust. It was easy to tell the difference Alex thought, something about the self-assurance in the way they held themselves set her colleagues apart. At least they were all still proud to be coppers she thought. One day Scarman and his ilk would get their way and wearing the uniform or carrying a warrant card wouldn't always be something to be automatically proud of.

The DI was clipping her name badge to her blue silk blouse when she felt something warm brush against her arm.

'Drake!' Gene was holding out a cup of coffee in a generic off-white cup and saucer, which she took from him. 'No bloody garibaldis! Just these soddin' Viennese-flaming-whirls...'

He stirred his coffee furiously, placing one of said biscuits into his mouth, not bothering to finish as he continued talking.

'You expect this sort of thing from nancy, twatting Southerners... Girly biscuits an' all that, but Christ... I stay south of Watford Gap for two minutes and _this_ is what bloody happens...' Another biscuit disappeared into the hole in his face. Alex rolled her eyes, blew gently on her coffee and took a sip only to instantly screw her face up.

'Bloody hell Gene! Did you bother to put any coffee with this whiskey?' she exclaimed discreetly. The DCI instantly grabbed her cup and switched it over with his.

'Sorry Bolls...' Crumbs hung at the corner of his mouth. 'Gave you the wrong one...'

'You can't be serious about drinking this early? It's not even 10o'clock yet!' In reply he shot her a devilish grin.

'Well you didn't expect me to spend any amount of time with this bunch of navel gazers and the funny wig brigade and not get pissed did yer? If I 'ave to 'ob nob with these pricks I'd rather do it pissed!' Alex sighed deeply and held her free hand up in a gesture of resignation. Arguing was pointless. Gene Hunt always pleased himself.

'I give up! If you want to miss out on a chance of _actually learning something_ then be my guest!'

She turned on her heel and sashayed over to the nearest person stood on their own; a nervous looking, young female student who appeared completely out of her depth as she fumbled in her bag and tried to balance a glass of water in her hand, Alex taking it from her as she introduced herself. All the while he was admiring the outline of her pert backside in the black pencil skirt she was wearing, noisily slurping on his drink and standing apart from the crowd.

* * *

Four hours later and they were enduring the key note speaker. A balding, slight man in his mid to late 40's, who appeared to be ignoring his audience and informing himself about the 'Rights of the detainee', only making eye contact with them when he stopped to pour another glass of water and perhaps do a quick head count of the ones he's managed to make doze off. Right now Alex realised she would have killed for one of the gawdy PowerPoint presentations in air-conditioned surroundings she was so familiar with back home. At least there'd have been pictures to look and fresh air to breathe instead of fighting to keep her eyes open in these stuffy surroundings, whilst listening to the monotonous tone of the 'distinguished speaker'.

It was at times like these she wondered what Molly would be doing right now. Glancing down at her watch she saw it was 2.15. Wednesday afternoons were always games. Fragments of memories flashed through her mind. Of stuffing her daughter's P.E. kit into her bag before kissing her on the cheek and waving her off from the door as Evan waited for her in the car. Of her little girl pulling her seatbelt across and blowing her a kiss, which she always caught as the estate drove away.

A sharp dig to the ribs interrupted her musings as Gene handed her the piece of paper they'd been passing backwards and forwards for the past 20 minutes, a diagonal line striking through 3 crosses. _So this is what he does when he's supposed to be going over case files. Practices noughts and flaming crosses! _Turning slightly she couldn't help but notice the smug grin on his face, a by-product of his ten straight victories in a row. Boredom and frustration getting the better of her Alex reflexively swore under her breath.

'Hmmm?' Looking at her DCI she was greeted by a blank look followed by a nod in the direction of the seat to the next of her.

'Did you say something, dear?'

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes with his liver-spotted hands, the elderly delegate to her left was staring at her expectantly. Quickly looking to Gene for help but soon realizing none was forthcoming as he faced the front and feigned interest in the paper, Alex did what her degree and training had taught her to do so well. She bullshitted.

'I said that was an interesting take... on, you know, the rights of the detainee in custody...' she whispered leaning, noticing the whispy white hairs protruding from his ear, as he nodded and a tight smile spread across his rubbery lips.

'Oh quite dear!'

_It would appear I'm not the only one well versed in the art of bullshitting, _Alex noted as she realised the man's gaze was now flowing down her body and lingering over the uncovered part of her thigh where her skirt had ridden up when she'd sat down. As she tried to adjust it without standing up, the man to her left stretched his legs out languorously and began to fiddle with the waistband of his trousers in an attempt to hide his burgeoning beer belly, all the while not averting his eyes from the young, attractive woman who appeared to have fallen in his lap. His tongue peeped out and ran lasciviously over his lips, making her skin crawl.

Suddenly Alex could feel hot air on the back of her neck which instantly made the hairs there stand on end, and sent shivers right down to her toes.

'I think you've made a friend, Bolly.' There was more than a hint of mirth and sarcasm in his voice as he lingered near her ear and uttered one more word.

'Pub?'

Gene leaned back into his seat but continued to regard her, taking in the slight blush in her cheeks. _It must be the heat._ Pursing her lips together as if deliberating for a second Alex slowly nodded her response and turned back to her 'admirer' to her left, and leant towards him to speak.

'If you'd excuse me please...' Alex stood up trying to look as inconspicuous as possible as a couple of people in the rows directly in front turned round to see what was going on. 'My colleague and I have some Police business to attend to...'

The DI didn't wait for his response as she awkwardly placed one leg over his outstretched ankles. Unbeknownst to her, seeing his opportunity the man shot his hands out and went to grab her backside, under the guise of helping her ease her way down the narrow gap between their row, but was halted by a look that could have curdled milk, causing him to look away and awkwardly pull his hands back, jamming them in his pockets like a small child who'd been caught stealing sweets.

Watching Alex reach the end of the row and turning round to check where he was he felt a wave of protectiveness for her wash over him. _Nobody touched her._ _Not again anyway. Not if he could help it. _

**TBC...**


	3. Chapter 3

**A huge thanks once again to everybody who's read, reviewed, favourited etc etc. It puts a smile on my face, which is never a bad thing!**

**A Bird in the Hand**

**Chapter 3**

Several hours later and they were still in the same pub they'd found just down the road from the hotel, an old-fashioned boozer called Parkers, which at best Alex would have described as having a certain provincial charm, at worst as being a little on the rough side. This was only emphasised by the disgusted stares from the locals as they walked in, one elderly membeof the clientele curling his mouth into a snarl and putting his fingers into his mouth, retrieving his upper set of dentures and proceeding to clean it with an old handkerchief as he tutted and shook his head irreverently, muttering something to his equally disdainful friend about 'all fur coat and no knickers'. Following Gene to the bar she realised this was about as far away from her 2008 existence as was humanly possible, a stab of homesickness hitting her in the pit of her stomach. Here al fresco dining was eating your fish and chips with the paper open whilst you walked home from work. _Here_ was the last place she wanted to be.

'What you drinking Bolly? Wine'll taste like vinegar, but it'll do the trick...'

'Vodka... Double.' Gene raised his eyebrows and pouted as he looked at her. _Perhaps I'm not the only one having a crap day. _

'Blimey! Starting as we mean to go on are we?' Alex didn't seem to hear him and began to speak distractedly, seemingly on auto-pilot.

'I'll find us somewhere to sit.'

Gene watched as she found a table in a dark corner of the pub, pulled out the stool and sat down, staring thoughtfully out the window. Something was wrong. She was too quiet. He never thought the day would come when he wished she was screaming her head off at him, all flushed cheeks, tight lips – face like thunder, but here it was.

'What can I get yer mate?'

Breathing in deeply he turned back to the bar and ordered the drinks.

* * *

After 2 bottles of wine and the odd shot of vodka Alex no longer seemed to care about her surroundings, as she leant over the bar twisting one of her curls round her finger and chatted animatedly to the barman, a muscular, chisel-jawed ash blonde in his late twenties, who appeared to be demonstrating the length of something with his hands causing her to lift her eyebrows in a look of surprise and giggle infectiously.

The frown that Gene had had across his face ever since his DI had gone to the bar 15 minutes earlier had now developed into an out-and-out scowl as he observed her flirting with 'the brain-dead prick' behind the bar. Sat in this dingy corner and nursing the dregs of his pint he imagined he looked like a middle-aged has-been. Old, and worse still, pathetic. All in stark contrast to her: beautiful, self-assured, gorgeous, intelligent and very sexy. An image of her dressed in the fur coat, red dress and suspenders flashed before his eyes causing his cock to twitch involuntarily in his trousers. Leaning back in his seat he threw his head back and wished to God she didn't have this power over him. Of all the patches in all the world she had to come and park her bony arse in his and then proceed to waggle it in his face, with absolutely no hope of him ever getting his hands on it. Whenever he was around her he nearly always felt inadequate, generally angry, but unmistakeably horny too. Quite frankly he'd never come across a woman who was so draining and yet exhilarating all at the same time. Now she was blatantly advertising her availability to every other bloke on the planet, probably just to piss him off. _Probably_. He watched grumpily as Alex took a pen from the barman and wrote something on a beer mat she'd found on the bar, handing it over to him as he grinned like a Cheshire cat. Bile rose from the pit of Gene's stomach and his mouth opened before he could stop it.

'Drake I know 'ow much you love gettin' yer tits out for all and sundry, but I'd quite like me pint before it goes flat!'

His DI noted the venom in his voice, rolled her eyes and mouthed an apology to the attractive blonde behind the bar before picking up her glass of wine along with Gene's pint and sashaying back over to the corner where her boss sat, trying her hardest not to betray the fact that she could feel the room spinning slightly.

'Here. Happy now?' Alex slammed the drink in front of him, sloshing some of the contents on the table before sitting down on the stool opposite him.

'Oh ecstatic! Can't you flamin' tell?'

'Miserable bastard...' she muttered slurring her words slightly and taking a healthy swig of her white wine.

'I could be hundreds of miles south of here cracking some nonce's skull, but instead I have to watch you draping yourself over some tyke twat.' Hunt leaned in for emphasis. 'So excuse me if I'm not a ray of sodding sunshine DI Drake, but this _is not_ my idea of a good time!' His index finger pressing down on the table as he spat out each word.

There was a long pause as they avoided eye contact and focused on the bottom of their glasses, silently draining the contents. Finally placing her wine carefully on a mat Alex broke the silence.

'You're jealous.'

'I am not!' His response was a little too swift. A little too insistent.

'Bollocks! You've done nothing, but stare at my backside and give the barman daggers ever since I went to buy the drinks...' As she spoke Gene noticed the fiery glint in her eye. She was baiting him. Still he wasn't going to let her get away with talking to him like that.

'For you information _love, _I couldn't give that thick twat's left arse cheek if you want to flash your jugs and dole your number out to every bloke you pass in the street...'

'Who says I gave him my number?' She asked cocking her eyebrow.

'I'm not bloody blind! I saw you writing your number down on a beer mat...'

'Like I said who says I gave him _my _number?' Gene screwed his face up in bafflement. 'Let's just say Ray's going to get an interesting phone call when Dennis over there finishes his shift tonight' she whispered. His eyes lighting up it suddenly dawned on him what she'd done.

'You didn't?'

'I did', she admitted rather guiltily. 'He's lovely, but I just wasn't that impressed with him going on about his odd shaped balls.' Gene nearly choked on a mouthful of his beer.

'You shouldn't mock the afflicted Bolly. 'Ave mumps when he was a kid did he?'

'He collects rugby memorabilia Gene...'

'Hmmm', Hunt muttered unconvincingly grabbing the packet of cigs off the table, pulling his lighter out of his pocket and sparking up, soon subconsciously turning his head slightly and blowing out a puff of smoke to the side. Alex didn't like it.

'I mean he's gorgeous, polite and has a backside you could bounce a 10 pence piece off, _but_ he's just not my type.'

'Right', Gene offered nervously drumming the tips of his fingernails on the table and resting his head thoughtfully in the palm of his other hand, fag still hanging from his lips.

'Right!' Alex repeated a little too overenthusiastically as she avoided his gaze and drained some more from her glass.

'So what _is_ your type then Lady Bolls?' The moment the question left his lips he instantly regretted it. Their relationship wasn't exactly the most professional he'd ever had with one of his DI's, but he didn't want to face the wrath she was most definitely capable of after asking her such a personal question. _Shit!_ To his surprise she didn't slap him across the face, she actually seemed to be considering what he'd asked.

'What if?...' She appeared to be hesitating, her hands fidgeting as she stared down at her nails and inspected them thoughtfully.

'What if what?'

'What if I'm looking at him, right now?' She lifted her head nervously and looked him square in the eyes, searching for something in his. For a few seconds everything and everybody else seemed to melt away. No more chit-chat or clinking of glasses. It was just them, nobody else. Finally Gene dropped his eyes.

'We've been here before Bolls. We've both knocked back more than our fair share of booze and I don't take advantage of birds who can't walk in a straight line for all the Pinot Grigio they've poured down their necks...' _Liar,_ Gene thought to himself, _most of the birds I've shagged could barely see straight, let alone walk straight._

'What if this bird's big enough and ugly enough to not mind being taken advantage of?' There was a slight pensive pause. 'What if _I'm the one _who wants to take advantage?' Gene gulped loudly.

'Alex I really think you're about to say something you'll regret...' He offered quietly as he stubbed his cigarette out in the glass ashtray in front of him.

'What? Because I don't see the problem with two grown-ups in a strange city spending the night together? For God's sake Gene I'm not asking you to marry me, I'm asking you to...' Alex didn't see the point in finishing her sentence. By the look on Gene's face she knew he understood what she wanted loud and clear. Again there was a pause, which only served to crank up her agitation.

'Well?'

'Leeds in't that strange Bolls. I mean s'not Manchester, but it ain't Timbuktu is it?'

The moment he said it he wanted to claw the words back, insert them back in his mouth and swallow them, but it was too late. A flash of disappointment followed almost immediately by anger flew across Alex's face, as she picked her glass up, drank the remnants of the liquid in it and slammed it back down on the table.

'Fine!' she hissed getting up and bending down towards him so she was a matter of inches from her DCI's face. 'I try to have a serious conversation with you and you end up taking the piss as usual.'

Drawing herself back up to her full height she spat out a goodbye and went to turn away from him when he grabbed her wrist firmly and drew her back towards him.

'Where are you goin'?'

'I, _Gene,_ am going to find someone who has the balls to screw me senseless! Is that alright with you?' Eyes wide she was glaring at him, daring him to say something. 'Eh? Is it?'

Taken aback his response stuck in his throat, whilst Alex took the opportunity to prise his fingers off her and make a hasty but unsteady exit, crashing unceremoniously through the pub doors and onto the bustling street outside. Whether it was shock, the alcohol or a heady mixture of the two Gene felt like he was frozen to the spot as seconds ticked by.

Still there, as if he'd taken root, the elderly patron turned once again to his friend and muttered under his breath.

'Told yer she were all fur coat and no knickers, din't I?'

'Aye!' the man next to him answered, slowly pressing his tankard to his lips and nodding almost in slow motion as he absent-mindedly scratched his chest through his jumper.

The conversation at the bar snapping him back to his senses, before he knew it the DCI was shrugging his jacket over his shoulders and heading towards the exit himself, reaching it and spinning round to regard the two men at the bar.

'And you two can just piss off!' Gene growled and then burst through the doors, ignoring the feint Yorkshire twang behind him calling him a 'Manc bastard'. _Sod them!_ They weren't his priority, she was.

Looking first to his left and then to his right down the crowded pavement he eventually spotted her zig-zagging slightly a couple of hundred yards in front of him. Picking up his pace he easily caught her and placed his hand on her shoulder spinning her round.

'What do you want?'

Her jaw was set in exactly the same way it was when he'd asked her if she was going to 'punch him or kiss him' on that first day. Even now with a face like a slapped arse and eyes glassed over like an old lush she was still breathtakingly beautiful. Gene nearly laughed out loud, but stifled it knowing it would only add fuel to the fire.

'Alex...'

'What Gene?'

She was still angry but now there was a note of desperation in her voice, which didn't go unnoticed by the man stood in front of her who briefly turned away and sniffed, suddenly acutely aware of the people bustling by them in the dusk of the Spring evening as opened his lips to speak.

'Your room or mine?'

* * *

Minutes later they were walking down the fifth floor corridor of the hotel, Gene's arm snaked possessively around her waist, but neither of them daring to look at the other in case it sparked a change of direction for the evening. When they finally stood outside his room he broke the contact and reached for the key from his trouser pocket, putting it tentatively in the lock, Alex noting that his hand was shaking slightly in the process. Letting her step over the threshold first, he then followed closing the door behind him and resting against it, folding his arms and breathing in deeply through his nose. He was nervous. Really nervous. In fact he concluded that he hadn't been this jittery since he'd heard the first chimes of 'Here Comes the Bride' when he stood ashen-faced at the altar_. _With his head tilted back slightly he took in the sight of the woman stood before him. Right now she looked like the sexiest thing he'd ever seen but he had to ask.

'Changed your mind?' Her head cocked slightly to the side she shook it slowly, her gaze fixed on him.

'No. Have you?' He shook his head in return, his grey-blue eyes still locked with hers searching for some sign of uncertainty. He couldn't do this if she wasn't sure. Despite his best efforts not to he cared too much to let this happen if they weren't on the same page.

Within seconds she'd closed the gap and was on him. Her hands raking through his hair as she kissed him fiercely, biting his lower lip and forcing her tongue into his mouth, causing him to moan as he snaked his hands down her body and onto her arse. And then just as abruptly as it began Alex pulled away and took a step back, leaving Gene with a puzzled look on his face.

'What now?' he asked breathlessly. With one side of her mouth curled up into a coy grin, she dropped down onto her knees and began to massage his length through the front of his trousers, all while the not breaking eye contact with him.

'This...'

'I don't know about you Bolls, but I'm gettin' a serious case of déjà vu right now?'

Alex could hear the tension in his voice and observed his long fingers flexing against the wood of the door. Memories of her on her knees in front of him, whilst wearing the red dress and fur coat coursed through her mind, compelling a smile to trip across her lips. Back then a repeat performance under _these circumstances_ would have been unthinkable.

'That's French Gene' she commented chirpily as she diverted one hand up to his belt, undoing the buckle and slipping it out of the loops before throwing it nonchalantly over her shoulder and turning her attentions to his button and fly.

'And so's what you're about to do...' the DCI grunted, a hint of impatience seeping into his demeanour as she lowered his trousers tantalisingly slowly down over his hips, past his knees, finally allowing them to pool at his feet.

'I think you'll find its Italian actually, Signior Hunt...' Eyes closed Gene could hear the cockiness in her tone as she resumed delicately stroking him through his cotton boxers, her feather-light touch no longer nearly enough. _God she's impossible_!

'As much as I love hearing you wittering on Little Miss Fussy Knickers...' He paused briefly as she hooked her fingers in the waistband of his boxers and brought them down to where his trousers lay. 'Right now I can think of a much better use for that pretty little mouth of yours, swee...'

Before he could finish off the word, he felt her grip his cock firmly. A little too firmly. His eyes darted downwards only to be met with a challenging look.

'Now's not really the time to piss me off is it?' Glancing to where her hand was and back up to her face again within a split second, he realised she wasn't joking and gulped audibly.

'Point taken.'

Loosening her grip Alex began to rake her hand up the length of him, twisting her wrist slightly as she reached the tip and wet her lips.

* * *

**Profuse apologies for leaving it there guys. Rest assured there is more smut to come... At least we can take a good guess at how Gene's boxers ended up on the door handle now... Every cloud... :D**


	4. Chapter 4

**Massive apologies that it's taken me so long to get this up. Life, the universe and everything seemed to conspire against me and Gene and Alex proved to be elusive for a lot longer than was strictly fair...**

**Many, many thanks to all of the wonderful people who've read, reviewed, favourited and alerted this fic - it spurs me on! **

**As ever more feedback would be fantastic! Thank you.**

* * *

**A Bird in the Hand**

**Chapter 4**

Alex lay silently on the bed and stared at the ceiling, fixing her eyes on a darkened damp patch which looked suspiciously like Italy right down to the boot shape looking poised to kick Sicily off the map. _Not so much The Ritz as Holiday Inn, _Alex mused a faint smile developing. By now the haziness of the alcohol was wearing off and had been replaced by the muzziness of a slight drink-induced headache, coupled with a dull ache in most of her muscles. It had been one hell of a day already and _still_ it wasn't over.

With seconds ticking by as she laid there an increasing sense of vulnerability and embarrassment flowered in the pit of her stomach. Never in her life had she felt this exposed, this ridiculous and yet still so unbelievably aroused. Except in the first flush of their romance, with Pete it had always been a case of backs turned as they undressed and then an awkward diving under the covers to get the customary, mechanical 10 minute shag out of the way before they quickly faced the opposite direction from one another and fell asleep. It wasn't that she didn't know there should be more to it, more to a relationship with someone she was supposed to be in love with, it was just that it was convenient to convince herself that this was what happened. You meet someone, eventually the excitement fizzles out and then you spend the rest of your life stumbling through like you're seeing things through a sheet of glass: cut-off and detached. That was the status quo and you dealt with it the best way you could, by burying your head in the sand like everybody else.

In stark contrast this all felt so acute, so real. The irony certainly wasn't lost on her. A few months ago she was convinced that this world and all of its inhabitants were a figment of her vivid imagination. Right now she was almost certain that even her fertile mind couldn't have cooked this particular situation up. _Could it?_ If so and events had sent her further back in time to nineteenth century Venice, she concluded that Freud would have had a field day.

Finally, eyes still staring upwards, she dared to break the silence.

'So what now?'

Her voice wobbled slightly betraying her nervousness, which was instantly picked up on by the man who stood less than two feet away from her - watching her; taking in the contours of the beautiful woman before him in the soft light. The woman he wanted to strangle half the time, but longed to hold the rest; for whom these sentiments nearly always overlapped. Now here she was flat on her back on _his_ bed in _his _hotel room, her knees drawn up and her thighs parted and all at _his_ bequest. Not in his wildest dreams... _Well, that wasn't strictly true, was it?_ A wave of longing swept from the pit of his stomach down to his groin, compelling him forwards. He needed her- needed the physical contact.

'Well I dunno your Ladyship... I was goin' to play it by ear, but if you want me to draw up an itinery?'

Grabbing her ankles Gene dragged her further down the bed towards causing Alex to gasp audibly and rested his hands on her still parted knees, his fingers drawing insistent circles there.

'No I'm quite happy to go with the flow.'

Her breathing had quickened resulting in her chest rising and falling in a way that captivated the man who now loomed over her, his eyes raking over her hungrily causing her to close her own and bite down on her lip as she contemplated his touch, all the while moisture flooding to her core.

'I thought you would be.' He commented distractedly, thoughtfully drawing breath and opening his mouth to speak once again. 'Jesus Bolly! You've got the sexiest cunt I think I've ever seen...'

Not quite sure if she'd heard properly Alex shot up and rested her weight on her elbows, looking him square in the eye. Judging by the half smile on his face there'd been no mistake.

'And you.' She paused, her tone midway between angry and embarrassed. '_You_ really do have a way with words don't you Gene?'

Her cheeks flushing and her fingernails clawing at the sheet, she tried not to betray the equal mix of lust and annoyance coursing through her, but she knew he knew he had her right where he wanted her and at this moment in time the part of her psyche the feminist abhorred couldn't give a damn.

Moving to kneel on the mattress Gene ran his palms down the backs of her thighs, sending a shiver up her spine and forcing her to choke back a moan.

'Well credit, where credit's due, Bolls. If a member of my team has an exceptional asset...'

Lowering his head Gene began to plant gentle kisses on the inside of her thigh, intermittently tracing circles with his tongue.

'You're on seriously shaky ground right now...' Alex croaked hoarsely, evidently teetering on the edge of losing her self-control as she tried to think about anything else aside from the fact that her boss was inches away from the crux of her and eliciting such sensations she wasn't sure how much longer she could cope with it: supply audits, reports on missing pets – no it was sodding hopeless! Sensing the conflict between her head and her body Gene couldn't resist.

'Slippery ground might be more accurate,' the DCI quipped, one hand moving to gently caress her, making her arms buckle and forcing her head to flop back down as he parted her folds and nudged her clit with his thumb. This time she did moan, her hips unconsciously lifting up to meet his touch.

'God you're wet...' For a split second he was tempted to taste her, to lave her into another earth-shattering orgasm, but he knew he couldn't last much longer. He needed to be inside her and sooner rather than later.

'Please!'

It was a cry of utter desperation. He knew what she wanted but was determined to make her ask for it; she'd knocked him back too many times and this was self-preservation. At least if they woke up tomorrow morning and realised this was a horrible mistake she couldn't accuse him of taking advantage. Working his way up her body with a trail of sensuous kisses he finally loomed over her, his cock twitching as it nudged against her entrance. Looking down and noticing the dilated pupils, the parted lips and the unevenness of her breathing he realised just how much he needed her to vocalise what she wanted. His stomach tightened and his mouth went dry.

'Alex?' Locking glances both searched for something in the other's eyes. That _connection_. It was there and there was no denying it.

'Gene... I...' Running her fingers down his cheek she noticed all his imperfections. He was so different from the men she'd been with before. She'd longed to feel the way he made her feel right now ever since she could remember: wanted and unfeasibly sexy.

'What d'you want?' His eyes bore into hers seeking an answer there.

'I want...' The rest of the words caught in the back of her throat. Grabbing her left hand Gene forced it and her right one above her head. She was his for the taking now but it was all pointless if she didn't ask him, no tell him what she needed.

'Say it Alex.'

A momentary silence hung in the air between them, invaded only by shallow breaths and a quiet shuffling of feet from the room above them.

'Fuck me Gene...' It was little more than a whisper, but it was enough. Not tearing his eyes away from her as he slammed into her hot, wet centre with a little more force than he'd originally intended, he watched in awe as Alex arched into him, her head thrown back, eyes practically rolling to the whites and her mouth hung open in what looked like a silent scream. In that instant a flash of panic rose through him, _Shit! I've hurt her._

'Alright Bolls?' After a few moments the question finally registered. Looking at him through heavy lids eyes she eventually came the husky reply.

'Do it again...'

Gene couldn't quite believe his ears, but he wasn't about to pass up on the opportunity. Evidently her need was as great as his. _Slam. _This time a string of profanities fell from the DI's lips as she once again arched into him. He filled her in a way no other man had before, forcing her to admit somewhere at the back of her mind that despite all their differences they fit beautifully.

'Am I hitting the spot your Ladyship?' Gene managed to hiss through gritted teeth. Being inside her felt so exquisite it was almost surreal, as he fought with himself not to lose control.

'Please!'

Dipping his head the DCI began to nuzzle just below her breast, alternating between light kisses and gentle nips and smiling into her skin as he acknowledged her appreciation from the intermittent moans and the staccato movements of her body writhing underneath him. Once more he drove into her, eliciting yet another groan of pleasure, matched by his own.

'Always knew you were dirty Bolly, but Christ!'

Moving his head slightly further up, he caught her pebbled nipple between his teeth causing his DI to almost hum her gratitude. Alex Drake was no porcelain doll and he was glad of it: finally he'd met his match in more ways than one, the stark realisation of which made the DCI's heart skip a beat. _This couldn't be happening, could it? What the hell WAS happening anyway? _

'You don't know the half of it Mr Hunt,' she responded hooking one leg over his back, encouraging a gentler, but equally intense rhythm to build, his hands still holding hers above her head, but now with their fingers interlocking.

'Should I be takin' down your particulars then Ms Drake?'

'I thought you already had...' She paused clearly concentrating on getting the words out, and not falling prey to the distracting sensations their coupling was making her feel. 'More than once.'

For a split-second his mind contemplated the contents of his trouser pocket as their mouths and hips collided into each other; the handcuffs that he technically didn't need to bring with him, but force of habit had compelled him to tuck them away 'just in case'. This wasn't exactly the circumstance he'd envisaged using them in, but... _Don't run before you can walk sunshine!_

Her breathing becoming increasingly ragged, Alex abruptly pulled away from their embrace and began to struggle against the hands that covered hers.

'I need to...' She looked desperately above her where his fingers splayed possessively over her wrists, down to where they were joined and then back up to meet his steely blue eyes. Knowing what she wanted Gene removed one hand from above her head and snaked it down her achingly slowly, gently rubbing his thumb over one nipple and sensuously stroking her stomach before reaching his destination without breaking their rhythm.

'Oh fuck! Fuck... There!' The DI's back arched once more, forcing her head back and her eyelids to droop, as well as leaving her neck on display. Gene could see she was close, the thought of which nearly sending him over the edge, but he was determined she'd be the first one to cross the finishing line in spite of the hefty head start he'd had: _Slow and steady, Genie Boy. Slow and steady._

It may now seem old-fashioned but 'Ladies first' was a rule which he'd always tried to adhere to. Besides in the past letting some young, blonde female patron of the same bar he was frequenting through the door first usually meant he'd get a good view of her pert backside as she walked in front of him, if not a pretty good vantage point of downstairs, inside if the evening panned out well and said blonde wasn't averse back alleys and a quick knee-trembler. Manners did indeed have their advantages.

Running his tongue from her upturned jaw up to her ear he leant forward and whispered into it.

'You gonna come for me Bolls?'

'That an order?' Her reply was barely coherent as she fought back the groan that was rattling at the back of her throat and the urge to express her undying gratitude for the man who was making her feel like this. In response Hunt stepped up the assault on her senses, now grinding his hips against hers with a renewed ferocity and gently pinching her clit between his thumb and index finger as he smothered her neck with lingering kisses.

'Damn right!' he growled into her soft skin.

And there it was. The trigger that launched her over the edge. White fireworks bursting behind her eyes and the insistent fluttering of her muscles, from the tips of her fingers to her toes, as she clamped around him calling out his name and that of her maker, along with a few choice words that turned the air blue. A few thrusts later and Gene was following her over the edge, grinding out her name as he came inside her, his arms and legs eventually buckling making him collapse on top of his DI.

As minutes trickled by they both lay there catching their breath and allowing their heart rates to return to normal, neither of them wanting to move for fear of breaking the spell or letting the inevitable awkwardness burst onto the scene any earlier than it had to. Noticing a muscle twitching in his arm Alex absent-mindedly rubbed his bicep with her the heel of hand until it stopped, before tracing her fingers up his back and gently stroking his neck as his head rested on her shoulder.

'Gene?'

'Hmmm?' He sounded half asleep.

'My legs gone dead... Would you mind?'

Without saying anything he slowly began to pull away from Alex, both of them secretly and simultaneously lamenting the loss of their connection, and rolled to the other side of the bed without making eye contact, resting his head against the headboard and staring straight ahead thoughtfully. This wasn't the Gene Hunt who typically 'loved and left 'em'. He'd given Alex a peek behind that facade tonight and now he felt like she had his balls in her hands. This really was new territory. Sensing his unease Alex turned on her side and rested her weight on her elbow, her head leaning on her palm.

'Gene?'

'Yeah?' His gaze still fixed on the pattern of the wallpaper and his trademark pout becoming increasingly pronounced by the second. Alex didn't need her PhD to realise that he needed some sort of reassurance.

'I forgot to do something...'

'What?'

Before he had chance to realise what Alex was doing she was inches away from his face, her thumb running gently down his cheek as his eyes snaked a path from hers to her lips and then down to her chest, a trace of a smug smile ghosting across his face. Placing a finger under the cleft of his chin Alex lifted his head forcing him to meet her gaze.

'This.' Closing the gap between them Alex embraced him gently but intensely, revelling in the taste of cigarettes that still lingered on his lips, as one hand rested possessively on his chest. Eventually she pulled away taking in his brief look of disappointment and smiled. He'd obviously enjoyed that just as much as she had.

'What was that for?' Gene asked, his raised eyebrow betraying his confusion.

'You complaining?'

'God no!... For the record I don't have a problem snoggin' yer Bolls...' Gene answered, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards as he watched Alex clumsily try and get under the covers, obviously now feeling the cold.

'Well that's good to know... You getting in?' she asked tugging at the sheet he was currently sat on. He grunted his response and stood up allowing her a brief glimpse of his backside as he pulled back the covers and leapt in. _God he has a glorious arse_, Alex thought to herself resisting the urge to cop a feel as he shuffled around next to her trying to get comfortable and beating his pillow more than was strictly necessary. _Christ you're getting as bad as he is! _Finally Gene settled on his side facing her, not having a clue what to say or do. It'd been so long since he'd actually shared a bed with someone other than to shag them that he'd forgotten what was or wasn't required of him. As much as it pained him to admit to himself, Gene Hunt - Sherriff of the Manor, was nervous and not just because he was sharing a bed with any woman, but because it was _her_.

'It was for putting this ridiculous smile on my face.'

'What was?' Alex tutted instantly clicking his brain back into gear. 'Oh. Yeah... Weren't bad was it? Tonight I mean.'

'No.' She paused momentarily as if reliving the events, a mischievous glint sparking in her hazel eyes. 'Not bad at all.'

Once again a thoughtful silence hung in the air between them for a few seconds.

'Was I better than him Bolls?'

'Who?' Her brow furrowed deeply as she spoke.

'Mr Twatty-Twangy-Red-Braces. That banker bloke. You know him...' Then his voice lowered. 'Was I better than _him_?' An exasperated sigh escaped Alex's lips just before she launched into her answer.

'Oh for God's sake that was months ago! Don't tell me you're still smarting over that?'

More than once Gene's mouth opened as if he was about to speak but couldn't find the words, each time his steely blue eyes breaking contact from hers and looking into the middle distance as though he were searching for the right response there.

'Was I though?'

In that instant Alex saw the years fall away from the man laid next to her, along with the barrier he'd built up against the outside world. There before her was the vulnerable, pensive young man he must have been once, untainted by the job – by life in general. Despite herself Alex felt privileged to get such a glimpse, however brief it may be. She knew she could hurt him if she wanted to. There was a time that would have suited her down to the ground, but now things were different. They were different.

'Well most of my underwear is shredded, I've practically screamed myself hoarse and tomorrow I'll probably be walking like John Wayne. Does that answer your question?'

Gone was the worried look on his face as he began to smirk casually, yawning and stretching his limbs out, locking one leg over hers.

'Tart.'

'Bastard.'

'Slag.' Now his eyes were starting to droop.

'Arsehole.'

'Shu'rrup Bolly some of us are trying to get some sleep,' he muttered groggily without opening his eyes as he stretched back, fumbled with the lamp until the room was eventually plunged into darkness and then settled back into his original position, his breathing deepening as he began to drift off to sleep.

'Night Gene,' Alex whispered, rousing him slightly as he threw an arm round her, dropping his hand to give her backside a firm squeeze before once again dozing off. As her eyes fell shut out of sheer exhaustion too, she came to the guilty realisation that right now she didn't want to be anywhere else except for next to him, images of a mousey haired girl flashing tauntingly through her mind as she fell into a fitful sleep.

* * *

**TBC... **

'


End file.
